Needing To Know You're Here
by fallingangelsandstars
Summary: Sam is being plagued by nightmares from his time in the Cage with Lucifer. Dean notices, and it's worrying him.


**A/N: Hey. So, this fic is in answer to another prompt from Tumblr:**

**sam is having nightmares about being trapped in the cage with lucifer wakes up screaming and drenched in sweat. after quite a few sleepless nights dean decides to comfort sam by getting into bed and cuddling him like when they were little.**

**Warnings for mild torture. That's it.**

**Enjoy :D**

* * *

The first night, Sam wakes up screaming, his voice hoarse and raw. Sweat pastes his hair to his forehead, and his shirt sticks to him.

~.~

Everything is painted blood-red. Lucifer is standing in front of him, a cold, lifeless grin on his face. He picks up a knife, and presses it into Sam's mouth.

And he can't move, can't say anything, can taste the metallic edge of the knife, and his heart stutters. He wants to move, to run. He doesn't think he can take anymore. He'll do anything to get away from this.

He thought he'd escaped.

~.~

The second night, Dean wakes up to Sam crying, tears trickling down his temple and into his hair, and he's shaking.

~.~

Sam's hands are tied down, and all he can do is watch as the words he'd thought so often are carved into him, permanent and immortal.

_Monster._

_Worthless._

_Broken._

He's frozen, watching as the knife is taken away for a second, and all he can feel is mind-shattering relief.

Then it reappears, and Sam can't hold himself together.

He thought it was over.

~.~

The third night, Dean wakes up to Sam's voice, heart-wrenching in its terror.

_I'm sorry, Dean._

~.~

Dean is tied up, stretched on a rack in front of him, and Sam's breath is stolen, taken from him as he watches Lucifer tracing designs on Dean's skin, an artwork of blood and pain and fear.

And Dean is screaming Sam's name, and all he can hear is the chilling laugh that echoes through his mind.

He thought he'd saved him.

~.~

The fourth night, Sam doesn't sleep. His eyes are bloodshot, and his whole body is thrumming with nervous energy.

~.~

Dean knows the nightmares haunt Sam. Has known since the first night, when the silence was too great to bear and Sam too far gone to wake. He had watched helplessly as the nightmare rode its course, until Sam had shuddered into consciousness.

And the next night as he fought sleep until weariness overtook him, weighing him down, tethering him to his nightmares.

He'd known as Sam screamed his name, screamed for him, and Dean became part of his nightmares, part of what he feared most.

~.~

The fifth night Sam was distant, and Dean could see him moving away, shrugging him off, looking away every time Dean caught him gazing, the weight of his stare pressing down on him.

He gently brushes Sam's shoulder as he walks past the bed, and Sam leans into the touch hesitantly, closing his eyes, letting Dean's presence wash away his memories for the briefest of moments.

When he opens them again, his eyes are fearful, darting around the room, active until the second he drifts off into sleep.

~.~

The sixth night, Sam takes the first shower. Dean lets it go without a fight.

~.~

He's worried.

Sam's been in the shower for too long. The water's been running for over an hour, and Dean's worried.

He knocks on the bathroom door.

"Sam?" His voice is hesitant. He knows Sam's been having a fucking terrible week.

He understands.

Except he knows that whatever Sam's going through must be a thousand times worse than anything that's ever happened to him. And that thought scares him more than he can say.

"Sam?" Dean curses his voice for cracking. There's no answer, and Dean twists the door knob futilely for a couple of seconds, his mind racing, and then kicks the door down.

Sam's sitting, slumped against the shower tiles, fully-clothed, and Dean can see tear tracks imprinted on his skin. The skin of his wrists and forearms is raw, scratched so harshly that it's begun to bleed. The red drops dissipate in the water.

~.~

Dean turns the water off, the tap protesting. Sam's soaked to the bone, and he's shivering violently. He kneels next to Sam, water seeping through his jeans. He gets Sam's arms around his shoulders, wrapping one arm around his waist.

He stands up, fighting to support his weight as Sam tries weakly to do the same. When he leans against Dean, his strength gone, Dean picks him up, carrying him out of the bathroom.

He lays him gently on a bed, and gets to work stripping off Sam's wet t-shirt and jeans. Sam fights him off weakly, but his strength ebbs soon enough that Dean's got him in sweatpants, before climbing in next to him, trying to restore some of Sam's waning body heat. He wraps his arms around Sam, cradling him gently, just like when they were small and Sam could fit easily in Dean's arms. But now it's different, so different. Yet still, the same. Sam shivers and seemingly makes himself smaller, his face pressed into the crook of Dean's neck, tears slowly starting to ease away.

"Damn it, Sam." Dean's voice is barely more than a whisper.

"Dean." Sam's voice is slurred, and his breathing is shallow and rapid.

"Can't feel… m' hands," he says wearily.

"'M so tired. Just wanna sleep, Dean." His eyelids are fluttering shut, too-long eyelashes resting on his cheeks. He's so cold.

Dean closes his eyes, forcing back the thoughts running through his head. All he can do is keep Sam warm.

He wraps the blanket around them both, as tightly as he can.

"I know, Sam. I know. You're going to be okay."

And Sam drifts off with Dean's promise a real, living echo of Dean, sheltering him, protecting him. This is how it's always been. Dean and Sam. Sam and Dean.

Dean holds him, his slow, steady heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

* * *

**Secondary A/N: ****For rubesdragon, who gave me the prompt.**

**Reviews are always welcome! Seriously, they make my day. And any prompts or requests for any pieces you want written. **


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